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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27991305">Panic! At The Supermarket</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/blazingstar29/pseuds/blazingstar29'>blazingstar29</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Sherlock (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Anxiety Disorder, Blankets, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Feels, Fluff, Hurt John Watson, Hurt/Comfort, John Watson Has PTSD, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sherlock Holmes Has Feelings, Social Anxiety</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 18:14:44</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,133</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27991305</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/blazingstar29/pseuds/blazingstar29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Each step he took down the aisle, anxiety burrowed deeper into his chest. Despite his many rows with the pin machine, John would never give it up for the alternative. The alternative was going through the checkout, not the self serve. The check out which involved talking to someone, someone looking at all his purchases with the ability to judge this man before them.  The self serve checkout was closed for whatever reason. Despite all John’s grumblings about Sherlock never doing the shopping he never cared. </p><p>-</p><p>John Watson has anxiety, but he lives with it. Some days are just worse than others.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Sherlock Holmes &amp; Greg Lestrade, Sherlock Holmes/John Watson</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>108</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Panic! At The Supermarket</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Each step he took down the aisle, anxiety burrowed deeper into his chest. Despite his many rows with the pin machine, John would never give it up for the alternative. The alternative was going through the checkout, not the self serve. The check out which involved talking to someone, someone looking at all his purchases with the ability to judge this man before them.  The self serve checkout was closed for whatever reason. Despite all John’s grumblings about Sherlock never doing the shopping he never cared. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sure his anxiety would spike for the rest of the day if he did someone ‘wrong’, but it was good for him. His therapist says so, he knows it is. Today was just not the day for something to go ‘wrong’. It was an effort to listen to Sherlock and leave the flat by himself. If it weren’t for Sherlock John would just go home now. But he was working through it, for Sherlock, for himself. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>If Sherlock wasn’t here with him then the next best thing is to call him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What’s wrong?” Sherlock asked within seconds of John dialling the number.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nothing,” John croaked but Sherlock heard the lie. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do you want me to come down there?” He asked gently.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>John froze, “no! I need to do this, I need to get better, I just wanted to hear your voice. The self check out is shut, I just. Yeah…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He trailed off but Sherlock was quick to start talking, “it doesn’t matter what they think John. If anything at all. Most of them are teenagers bored out of their mind and just want to go home and play video games.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>John managed to huff a short laugh at that. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ve got everything, I have to go check out now,” John said quietly as he watched the cash register. “I don’t know if I can do this.” Sherlock’s heart was breaking at his partner's words.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I can still come down and be there with you,” Sherlock offered a again but John was shaking his head even thought Sherlock wasn’t there.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I need, you’re not always going to be able to be right there for me. I need to learn, I need to do these things. I’ll call you in a moment.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are you wearing your lanyard?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>John looked down at his sunflower hidden disabilities lanyard hanging loosely around his neck,, “yeah, I am.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re doing so well, I’ll call you soon.”</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Never once on his tour of Afghanistan did John ever feel this afraid, it had started when he came back home. There had been hints of anxiety bubbling beneath the surface during his teenage years but they were shaken off by everyone including himself.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The lady at the cash register was an older woman, older than John. She had kind, beady eyes and bright pink hair. John instinctiley liked her, even though his anxiety was turning itself into a heart murmur. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How are you today,” she asked as she started scanning his items.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>John’s voice got stuck in his throat, “I’m o-kay.” Heat flushed to his cheeks at his own stutter but the lady just smiled.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Lovely weather today, I’d love to be at the cricket right now. I even had some tickets before I found out I had a shift.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>England was playing Australia in the ashes right now and it looked like England was quickly adding up runs and chasing the Australians.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s ah, that’s no good,” John said clearly this time but his voice still croaked. The woman finished scanning the items and as John went to pull out his wallet he dropped it and gold coins went rolling everywhere. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This wasn’t just ‘wrong’, this was </span>
  <em>
    <span>bad</span>
  </em>
  <span>. John couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t, all he thought about was the fact he dropped his wallet in front of everyone. He was frozen, the lady behind the counter decidedly wasn’t.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t stress dear, I can see the coins right here, there they are,” she bent down and picked up the coins.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>John took them with a shaky hand and picked his wallet up off the floor, “th-tha-nks.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The woman smiled, “it’s all right dear. My niece has one of those lanyards as well. You’re quite alright.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>John looked down at his sunflower lanyard for hidden disabilities. Sherlock had insisted he had it on his person when he went out by himself. At first John detested it, hated declaring himself like that. But now, maybe it was okay, maybe it was worth it with people like the cash register lady in the world. </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>The moment he was it if the supermarket barriers John was calling Sherlock. Despite the nice interaction he had with the lady, he was filled with anxiety and felt like crying. With shaky hands he dialled Sherlock's contact.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You did it, I am so proud of you, you’ve done so well,” Sherlock was instantly reassuring. John sucked in air through his teeth suppressing the sobs building in his chest. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I dropped my wallet, in front, in front, in front of everyone,” the doctor struggled to get the last few words out. On the over side of the phone line Sherlock froze, the man was well aware that his lover's PTSD reinforced his need to hold tight to things.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Guns.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Needles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patients. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Weaponry.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Holding onto important things stablaised him, unfortunately that meant dropping important things could trigger his PTSD at moments notice. On top John’s anxiety, dropping his wallet at the checkout was a massive trigger for the doctor.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t, you know. I, the woman at the counter. She, she was really nice, nice. Yeah,” John continued and Sherlock’s spirits rose. He stayed quiet as John continued to talk. “She found the coins I dropped and she, she, she, saw the, the lan-lanyard.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m so proud of you John,” Sherlock said, the pride clear in his voice. “I’m so, so proud of what you’ve been able to do.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>John had a watery smile on his face, Sherlock stayed on the line and the two chattered away. Although John was fatigued from his ordeal and was yawning by the time he was walking up the steps to the flat. He was greeted with warm tea and blankets. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Later that evening, with John knackered and quickly falling asleep, rousing occasionally, Sherlock got a message. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Lestrade (Graham?): Woman duct taped to inside of car, pushed into the thames. Brake Lines cut, hand brake off.</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Sherlock: Not tonight, maybe tomorrow. Difficult day for John. </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lestrade responded within moments of reading the message.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Lestrade (Graham?): Is he alright?</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Sherlock: Woke up anxious, went to the supermarket, dropped his wallet. Cash lady was good but he’s exhausted. Will be seeing a therapist tmrw. Unavailable from 12-1. </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Lestrade (Graham?): No worries, let me know if you need anything.</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Sherlock: Thank you. </b>
</p><p>
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